


Praise be

by retikrit



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Sylvain/Felix & Sylvain/Hubert, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Felix/Hubert, Sexual Humor, brief appearance of Ingrid Edelgard & Lysithea, eventual Felix/Sylvain/Hubert, mostly just hubert and felix talking about sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retikrit/pseuds/retikrit
Summary: Hubert would have thought that, despite all their disagreements, he and Felix would agree on some things when it comes to Sylvain. That would be if Felix weren't the most stubborn man he knows, and if Hubert didn't have fixed opinions of his own.But they do share some experiences.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Hubert von Vestra, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Praise be

According to the frequency of Lysithea’s yawns, and her insistence that she isn’t tired, it is safe to say the meeting has been going on for far too long.

Ingrid herself resolved to glaring and nodding when Edelgard speaks. It’s only logical then, that only a very stubborn, blinkered person would keep arguing about trifling matters at this point. That person is, of course, none other than Felix Hugo Fraldarius himself.

It irritates Hubert to no end.

“He’ll _need_ more backup, am I going blind? No one else here sees this? This corner is ideal for an ambush, and they know the ground better than we do. They’ll be prepared, and if we don’t have an appropriate respo –”

“We do,” Hubert snaps, not for the first time. “In fact, your insistence that Sylvain is not suited for a mere ambush like that tells us more about your opinions on you friends’ skills than Sylvain’s actual competence.”

Felix seethes. “Sylvain is competent. I have never implied otherwise, and would appreciate if you stopped putting words in my mouth.”

Hubert raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? So you must also agree Sylvain is a suitable response to a, again, potential ambush?”

“I agree that your obtuse reasoning fails to anticipate Sylvain’s reckless nature. Sure, he’s competent. He’ll also need someone to watch his back, because we all know he’ll conveniently forget to do it himself.”

Hubert scoffs. “It awfully sounds like you doubt him.”

Felix stands up, the heavy chair makes an unpleasant noise resonate. Lysithea reopens her eyes, right before Edelgard’s fist hits the table, hard. “That’s quite enough!” Hubert feels adequately ashamed. He gives up on his glaring match with Felix to stare at his notes on the table. “Felix, I understand your concern. I admire it, even. But Hubert is right, we don’t have enough resources to send another general with him. I have every confidence Sylvain will be fine on his own.”

Felix looks at Ingrid, probably foolishly hoping for support. She has no outwards reaction, then looks at Edelgard. She looks back at Felix, more seriously. “I don’t like Hubert any more than you do, Felix. But I trust Edelgard. She trusts him.”

Felix looks like he wants to kill everyone in the room, and Hubert doesn’t know if he loathes that look or adores it. He smiles wickedly, victorious. Felix looks like he wants to argue some more, but Edelgard stops him before he can get a single word in. “We’re all tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Felix, but for now we all deserve a good night’s sleep.”

Lysithea is suddenly very much awake, gathering her mountains of notes and reports. Ingrid routinely bows to the Emperor, before taking her leave.

Felix doesn’t move. By now, Hubert would be offering his company to Edelgard, but something makes him stay in his chair. He crosses his arms, Felix very much doing the same. Edelgard looks at them with disapproval, maybe disappointment, but doesn’t say anything other than goodnight.

“Is there something you’re trying to prove, perhaps?”

“Who knows,” Felix offers ambiguously.

Hubert might as well be talking to a wall. At least a wall doesn’t unpredictably tries to bite you. “I stand by my earlier words, if that’s what you’re thinking about. Your lack of trust in Sylvain never ceases to surprise me.”

“How little you truly know about him too. Caring about Sylvain means not trusting him, sometimes. I thought you’d have understood that by now.”

Hubert leans back in his seat, letting himself relax the tiniest bit. He reflects on Felix’s words. “Do you love him?”

“That’s none of your business,” Felix replies too quickly.

“Is it not?”

“It is not.”

Hubert manages to feel slightly upset over that. He had not expected such a rebuttal. He readjusts his expectations. “Perhaps Sylvain would not be so eager to let death conveniently surprise him if he knew people here _cared_ for him, as you insist on saying you do.”

“He knows!” Ah, so that gets a frank reaction.

Truthfully, Hubert doesn’t doubt Felix is fond of Sylvain. Even Caspar could come to that conclusion quite easily, and not be mistaken. It doesn’t mean Sylvain is at all times aware of that. “Really? Color me surprised. Suitors line up everyday for a minute of his attention. Now, why would they do that? Surely word got out he’s already taken? It would certainly make more sense, when we consider the fact you haven’t exactly been the most doting lover recently. One would assume you treat him as any other of your friends, if not worse.”

Hubert’s courtship of Sylvain is too recent, and discreet, to make a difference. He doesn’t mention it.

Felix’s frown never leaves, but turns more quizzical than angry. “Gossips can go around telling what they want. I don’t – I don’t say it, but he knows. I show it to him everyday.”

Yet, he doesn’t look so certain himself. A crack in his perfect tale. “I see. So if I were to ask him when was the last time you _showed_ him, he’d be able to answer me, correct? He knows you so well.”

He sees Felix looking for his words – a feat in itself. “He doesn’t fuck you to talk about me,” he ends up saying. That is only partly true, Hubert theorizes. Sylvain doesn’t often talk about Felix to Hubert, but he also doesn’t avoid the subject entirely. The phrasing rubs him the wrong way, but he attributes that to Felix being Felix.

“There isn’t a lot to talk about, I suppose.”

“There isn’t a lot to be said your relationship with him either. Do you tell him he’s hot? Is there anything you say that would stop him from conveniently seeking death?”

Hubert is slightly thrown off. “Well, I, on the other hand, tell him quite often I–” He realizes he does not. Felix sees that weakness, and his smug smile has the power of making Hubert forgo decency. “He possesses the finest ass I’ve had the pleasure to play with, to fuck and fill. I tell him so repeatedly, and surely you know how that makes it much more pleasurable for each party.”

“Oh yes, compliment his body. You know, the one that comes with the crest he hates so much. You know what makes him blush and splutter? Try telling him his smile is the brightest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. Try telling him you couldn’t stop loving him, even if you tried. But I forgot, you can’t. You’ve never told him a single nice thing, haven’t you?”

“I am perfectly capable of formulating words of praise.” He is, he could write pages about his devotion to his Emperor, he could write in detail everything he admires about Sylvain. He, very easily, could. Felix makes him confront the fact that he hasn’t, in the facts.

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“This is ridiculous.” He is capable. He simply isn’t about to give Felix a demonstration.

“Is it? If you’re going to accuse me of being insensible, you should be ready to prove you’re not. Or am I _incorrect_?”

“I –”

Whatever he was preparing to say is interrupted by a loud knocking, on the already open door of the meeting room. There, is Sylvain, looking at them with suspicion and a bit of worry. The time must be very late now, and even Hubert needs some sleep. Still, Felix doesn’t move. Sylvain speaks first. “Do I want to know what’s going on? I was looking for Felix and – well, I thought you guys were done here a long time ago.” Finally, Felix stands up. But it seems he isn’t exiting the room yet. He stops in front of Sylvain, frowning as intensely as ever. “Huh, did I do something?”

“I appreciate that you were worried about me, and went looking for me.”

It does nothing to appease Sylvain. Hubert understands the game, and joins the already tense conversation. “Your kindness towards your peers is an example, Sylvain. Especially during the times we’re in.”

Sylvain’s confusion shifts to full-on worry. “Okay, did I really do something? What’s this?”

“I’m being _nice_ ,” Felix nearly snarls. Hubert considers his point proven.

Sylvain looks alternatively at him, and Hubert. “Well, that’s usually bad news. I love you Felix, but you aren’t exactly known for being nice.”

Hubert can feel Felix’s offended stare from where he stands. “What? I can be nice. It’s not that unusual.”

“Easy, easy.” Sylvain smiles reassuringly. “You’ve come a long way, it’s true. But also, it’s been like…” He pauses for a second, calculating. “twenty-six days since you’ve said something that nice to me. So I’m still hoping for it, but I’ve stopped expecting it.”

“You’re keeping count?” Hubert notes Felix sounds sadder than angry. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel.

Sylvain looks bashful, always a strange thing to witness. “Ah, you got me. But I promise, it’s not a big deal.”

Hubert laughs evilly. “Well, Felix, you must now admit I was right. Sylvain doesn’t know, after all.”

Any previous mellowness on Felix’s part is swept away, he bristles once more. “Sylvain knows I love him. Something you wouldn’t understand, Hubert, because you’re just his fling.”

Well, that’s the line Hubert will not allow Felix to cross. “I am _not_ just a fling,” he says louder, hoping Felix will get his point.

It’s Sylvain who reacts. “You’re not?”

That catches Hubert off guard. “I am?”

“Isn’t he?”

Then, Sylvain again. “He is!”

Hubert frowns, bewildered. “I am.”

More guilt on Sylvain’s face. Hubert is feeling slightly dizzy.

Against all expectations, Felix saves him from the humiliation. “Sylvain, leave us alone.”

“No I’m – look I didn’t know, I thought he – I would have told you –”

Uncharacteristically calm, Felix talks again. “I know. It’s fine, Sylvain. But right now… I need to talk to him.” Hubert doesn’t want to see the face Sylvain is making. But he isn’t afraid, not so easily, and during the second their eyes meet, he sees even more guilt.

Hubert doesn’t want to be pitied. He smiles, as cruelly as he can. “Do leave Sylvain, your lover wants you to.”

He knows Sylvain will try to argue with him – but Felix doesn’t let him. He leaves, and closes the door behind him. Here he is, stuck again with the Fraldarius heir, in this damned meeting room. Quite unsurprisingly, he isn’t really in the mood to talk. Much less yell, or even just be sarcastic.

What he had, wrongfully, assumed is this – he has been courting Sylvain. With Felix’s blessing, after establishing that they don’t have to be nice to one another more than necessary. The first week felt unreal – probably because it was, after all. It took years for Hubert to admit his fondness for Sylvain was not completely platonic, at least one more to have the guts to mention it, as it is his duty. He hadn’t expected Sylvain to reciprocate, and ask for Felix’s approval.

It makes more sense now, with the right information in hand. Sylvain doesn’t want a second lover, merely someone’s heart to break, new flesh to use.

“The idiot is falling in love with you.”

Hubert’s head snaps up. He remembers where he is – he shouldn’t let himself mope in the company of others. Even less in the company of Sylvain’s real partner. “Pardon?”

Felix sits next to him, instead of in front of him as he usually does. He crosses his arms. “He’s done the same thing with me.” The confession surprises Hubert. Felix isn’t one to share this sort of detail, especially with him. But his curiosity is piqued – he lets Felix talk. He looks hesitant, but once he starts, he doesn’t stop. “It was during the academy. After a close call and some alcohol, we both got really sappy. I said some things, he did too. We started sleeping together not too long after, and I assumed it was out of mutual attraction and – love. I didn’t expect him to stop seeing girls, but I knew what we had… Was very real, very serious. So I told him I loved him.”

He chuckles, Hubert can detect lingering bitterness from the experience. His stomach twists in knots, already having an idea of what could have occurred then.

“He left. For a week, no one knew where the fool was. When he came back, he apologized, and explained he thought we were,” he holds up his hands, “‘friends with benefits’. He said we were over.”

“I suppose the story doesn’t end there,” Hubert quips. He glances – sees Felix’s smile. A rare occurrence, Hubert doesn’t know what to do with the fact it doesn’t disgust him.

“It doesn’t. I – I was heartbroken, obviously. But war gives us perspective, and after some more close calls and much more alcohol, he apologized for a lot more different things.” He turns his head slightly, and Hubert recognizes that look – that streak of competitiveness. “And I know for a fact he likes my dick more.”

That affirmation is, of course, preposterous. “Oh? I hate to be the bearer of bad news but – he told you he wanted me for my _benefits_ , didn’t he? My benefits are quite big.”

Felix laughs – not in derision, or mockery. He laughs with Hubert, as if he said something funny. And it is contagious, Hubert allows himself a genuine smile. Today is full of surprises.

“Thank you,” he finds himself saying. “Sylvain – omitted to tell me that story. Or the fact I wasn’t exactly courting him.”

“You are, though. He knows this too.”

Hubert has been too vulnerable for one evening to thank Felix again, but thinks it very hard. “I suppose you know him better, after all.” Felix doesn’t gloat. It seems they’re tired after all, and too soon Felix has gathered his own notes to finally get out of there. Hubert doesn’t know what makes him speak, after such a perfect end of conversation. “Felix.”

Felix looks surprised as well. “Yeah?”

“I don’t suppose you’d fancy drinking some wine with me?”

The offer is quite daring, and his intentions unclear, even to himself.

Felix rises to the challenge. “Okay.”


End file.
